


The Way We Were

by FireandSmoke



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternative Universe - GTA, Angst, Character Death, Criminal AU, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-05 12:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3119780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireandSmoke/pseuds/FireandSmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a name on your wrist in Los Santos was like placing a target on your back, a death wish. So when Ryan saw the name scrawled lazily across his wrist he knew he was screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_We've bent the rules, played the games_   
_And never said we felt the same._   
_We ended things like we began_   
_And feared what we became_

Having a name on your wrist in Los Santos was like placing a target on your back, a death wish. Once a rival gang saw the tattoo they would stop at nothing until they found them, once they had them all you could wish is that death came quickly. So when Ryan saw the name scrawled lazily across his wrist he knew he was screwed.

The idea of actually having your soulmates name on your wrist seems like a bizarre concept now. People have become far more cynic and names seemed to vanish from their wrists without any sense of pain, almost as if both stopped believing in love. There were horror stories of the names being wrong, that people went sometimes to the ends of the earth to find their other half only to find both of them couldn’t stand each other. The names put too much stress on the start of a relationship, especially those for where the instant connection didn’t happen. Then there was the worst case of all, having someone’s name on your wrist when they didn’t have yours. While soulmates were encouraged, programmes and movies centred on people finding their ‘match’, now the less said about the topic the better.

It was a quiet night when Ryan finally met his soulmate. Ryan’s mask hung loosely from his fingertips as its blood dripped slowly onto the floor dotting the pavement. He fought his way out an ambush that killed two people of his current team and adrenaline was still buzzing underneath the surface. The man was sure he looked suspicious but now he was past the point of caring, he got the rest of the members out, retrieved information and managed to steal back their stash of coke the rival gang was after.

A kid caught the man’s attention talking animatedly to a boy with curly hair. “I’m telling you dude it’s the year of Waluigi, it has to be!”

The other just chuckled as he shook his head and clapped the other on the shoulder, “Sure dude, sure. Shit, I’ve got to go meet Lindsay, you sure you’re fine walking home alone?”

“I’m an adult, I’ll be fine,” he reassured, “have fun having sex!”

Ryan couldn’t help but let out a small huff of amusement at their interaction, remembering what it was like when the biggest issues you had was over videogames. When the two passed each other, Ryan couldn’t place why his gaze followed the other for longer than normal.

The next time they meet, the younger was staring down the barrel of his gun. The Lads were a rogue team, taking on missions here and there and forcing themselves in heists or fights that didn’t concern him and frankly they were starting to piss everyone off. The fact that Ryan now had Brownman backed into a corner, gun against his temple, gave him a strong sense of pride.

The two masked figures stared at each other, both trying to see what the other would do.  A glint of sliver could be seen before a stinging pain caused the grip Ryan had on his gun to fumble. Brownman used that opportunity to twist his body away, placing some distance between the pair. It took the older man a couple of seconds to understand what happened before he growled, fully intending to break the prick’s hand for what he did. Just as the younger lashed out again, Ryan grabbed his wrist easily and twisted the hand round forcing the blade to be dropped to the floor.

Smirking behind the mask Ryan’s hand shifted its hold of the other’s wrist, causing his purple to ride up revealing the black ink. _Ryan Haywood._ Ryan’s hold on the wrist tightened believing at first that this was just a trick to get him to lower his guard, but when he looked up he saw the genuine fear behind the thick rimmed glasses.

Both of them paused, fear and confusion making them freeze while gunfire could still be heard all around. Dark Souls had a strict rule when it came to those with the mark, kill their soulmates or kill your own. Soulmates were liabilities, they created holes of weakness you didn’t know you had. They made you human, they made you mortal. This was a shared belief across the Los Santos gangs judging by how quickly the colour was draining from the smaller man’s face. His body tensed, his chest puffed out as he tried to make himself look strong in the face of death but the panic behind his eyes gave him away.

Yet Ryan was hesitating. The gun was barely raised to pose as a threat and the longer he left it, the heavier the weapon felt in his hands. Killing was something Ryan didn’t think twice about. It was simple. A bullet in the skull, knife across the throat, hands that snapped necks like twigs. It was easy and simple. Now things were real. They weren’t just targets, nameless faces, this was a kid with his name on his wrist. His possible soulmate could be standing right in front, his fear rising the longer it took Ryan to make a decision. What if the rumours were true that when your soulmate dies a part of you dies with them? That the pain feels like your heart has been forcibly pulled from your chest while your body is burning, but a hundred times worst.

“Skull!”

A sharp cry caused Ryan to quickly come to reality and with a harsh push he pushed the other away from him. As he fled the situation he vowed to himself that the next time he saw the kid a bullet would be between his eyes.

Rooftops were a calming place for Ryan. The distance between him and rest of society helped to ease his mind. His mask became the focus point of his gaze as if he was looking at it for the first time. The interaction with Brownman was constantly running through his mind. That was his handwriting on the other’s skin, there was no question about it. He was not only someone’s soulmate, but he had to be the soulmate to latest high rising sniper in Los Santos.

After a few moments more of hopeless contemplation, Ryan carefully removed the gloves he wore on every mission and stared down at the messy scrawl on his own wrist. _Ray Narvaez Jr._ The man traced the words carefully, marvelling at the idea that he could possibly be a real match for anyone. None of this made any sense to him.

“Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?” A voice asked, cutting sharply through the layers of self-deprecation Ryan was slowly slipping into.  “Am I not seen as enough of a threat for you?” The bitterness in the other’s voice produced a humourless laugh from the elder.

“I was doing you a favour,” Ryan replied, casually turning around to the face the other raising an unamused eyebrow at the gun in the other hands.

“Fuck you, I don’t need hand outs. I don’t do favours. I don’t owe people, especially washed up cocky bastards like yourself.”

Ryan smirked and slowly paced forward, knowing his paint was just as threatening as his mask. Brownman however stood strong, returning the look with just as much venom. He came with a point to proof and Ryan couldn’t help but admire the determination within the lad. The eagerness to proof yourself to anyone and everyone who wouldn’t listen, to destroy their preformed ideas about you. That mind set was dangerous, but so was everything the pair did. Backing down was never an option, not if you wanted to life fast and die in infamy.

“Do you need the death of a soulmate?” Ryan asked, directing the question behind him as if he had no interest in this conversation.

The younger one froze ever so slightly once more before shrugging, “it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

At the answer Ryan smirked once more and asked, “If you knew who mine was, what would you do?”

“Kill them,” came in the instant reply. No hesitation, no remorse.

The elder chucked as he walked towards the other and offered out his wrist. “Go on then.”

“What the fuck?” the younger spat when he saw the name written. “Are you shitting me? You have to be dude, I can’t be… Is this sometime of fucking game? You either kill me or I kill myself?”

At the outburst Ryan went into shock, this wasn’t what he expected from this game at all. “You’re, fuck… You’re Ray?”

“No shit Sherlock,” the other muttered, before casting a look back at the other huffing at the face he saw. “Oh come on, you could do so much worst.”

“No, it’s not that… It’s, shit, this can’t be happening…” Ryan muttered as he kept glancing between his wrist and Ray. Then he grabbed the other’s wrist ignoring the wincing which came from roughly handling a still healing fracture. “That’s, yeah, that’s…”

“That’s your handwriting,” Ray stated his voice sounding just as bleak as Ryan’s.

They both stared at each other, for the first time truly taking in each other’s features. Both looked in unmasked surprise and slight confusion that this was even possible. Hands itched by their sides, the desire to reach out and touch what has always been theirs, but neither brave enough to make the first move. It has been said that the first conscious touch cements the bond between soulmates, it shows how their relationship would move on from then. The first touch would force the hanging tension to break and neither were ready to face what they could possibly be.


	2. Chapter 2

Actively ignoring the knowledge of who your soulmate is was incredibly hard to do. It was like your heart constantly ached not being near the other, that it painfully fought for you to recognise the other half of your soul was out there, equally as alone. Ryan buried himself more and more into his work, each kill more brutal than the last but even that didn’t sooth him. Every slash of a knife, shot of a gun or mindless beating gave him less and less satisfaction. His mind became almost consumed with the thought of Ray, what he was doing, if he was missing him as much as a Ryan was missing him.

Instead Ryan used the media coverage the Dark Souls attracted with each murder to leave a message to Ray. A simple blood painted rose. It wasn’t much but he felt like it would something the other would at least appreciate to show he was in his thoughts.

It didn’t take long before blood painted skulls dotted the crimes of The Lads.

The pair danced around each other for a couple of months, each attempting to push away the temptation to be together through the messages. Until the need got too strong for either of them to bare.

Ryan went the roof that made both of their lives that much more complicated, to find Ray already sitting on the edge idly observing the city. Neither of them gave much thought of why they choose this night to finally meet again, but Ryan put it down to the natural pull the bond was said to have.

The meeting was awkward to start, both just staring at each other trying to capture what details they could see from the dim light the moon provided. Ray took a hesitant step, the fear and pressure of what this meant resting heavily on both of their shoulders. Ryan took a step of his own and then they were rushing towards each other, both desperate to touch, hold the person who will always be theirs. Teeth clashed as their kisses became harsh and needy, the pair knowing they were working with time they couldn’t afford to spend.

Reluctantly Ryan pulled away and cupped Ray’s cheek tenderly, pressing his forehead against the younger man’s as he tried to breathe him in. His hand slowly fell and the pressure against his forehead drifted away, when he finally opened his eyes Ray was already gone.

The connection, the spark was there for both of them. That rush of electricity hit the second fingers touched skin. It squash the need the pair felt but rather ignited it further.

By-weekly the pair would meet on the roof spending time in each other’s company. Some nights they were too tired to talk and would just sit in comfortable silence, just the mere presence of knowing the other one was there was enough.

_“No! No way did you do theatre in high school!” Ray laughed surprised. “How did you not just instantly creep everyone out?”_

_“Hey!  I was an amazing Tybalt, I would leave people in tears over how tragic my death scene was!” Ryan reply, chuckling softly. It was a sight that always caught Ray by surprise, the softness of the other’s face when he let himself be completely relax. The glint in those blue eyes which showed the humanity the man tried so desperately to hide._

_After a brief pause Ryan’s laughter died down and his merry attitude was replaced with slight worry when he asked softly, “you… you don’t find me creepy do you?”_

_Ray’s smile softened as he shrugged, “at first yeah. You’re a scary dude, not going to lie. Now, hell no, you’re the biggest dork I’ve ever met. I mean theatre for fuck sake!”_

The meetings were dangerous and selfish, both of them knew that and it wouldn’t be long before it would blow up in their faces. Yet Ryan had always been attracted to danger, and if this was to go up in flames he would be the one to light it.

Two months later the match was lit.

Ryan returned to the warehouse the Dark Souls were staying at after an impromptu meeting with Ray to find Joel’s shit eating grin staring back at him. He didn’t say anything but simply raised an eyebrow at the elder.

“So you going to finally tell us who you’ve been fucking?” he asked callously.

 “Fuck off, Heyman,” the other grunted.

“Oh come on, I mean I would let this go if you weren’t so fucking obvious. You’re always in such a hurry to leave, you come back on fucking cloud nine and now,” the man broke off into cruel laughter. “Adam! Adam look! Ry’s got hickeys. Someone has really gone to town on you buddy.”

“I said fuck off,” Ryan snarled, his mood instantly dropping as he stalked his way to the other. Seeing the other’s form slowly creeping back onto himself gave Ryan a low level of satisfaction.

“Look, we don’t mind do we, Joel? You’re a sensible guy and it’s not effecting your work,” Adam spoke out, keeping a wise distance from the situation. “As long as it stays that way, what’s the harm really?”

Joel held up his hands in an attempt to restore some peace, “hey I’m just kidding. It’s nothing I’m sure, just don’t dart off now. Boss is coming in soon and you need to be here.”

Ryan was about to open his mouth to refuse, say how he needed to leave whenever he could but any reluctance would only spark their interest more. “Sure,” he said instead and took this as a warning sign that things with Ray were quickly staring to get out of his control.

Their boss, Burnie, stayed around for much longer than Ryan appreciated. His skin began to itch from being away from Ray for too long. The itching of his skin caused him to become more irritated, throwing knives inches away from Joel’s face each time he overstepped the line. Each time it happened Burnie simply laughed and shook his head at Ryan, almost as if this behaviour was endearing to him.

Tasks rolled by, each of them being below the level Ryan liked. These ones that were a simple stalk and kill gave him far too much time to himself, something which he always tries to avoid.  The next mission however caused him to visible pale and hesitate before confirming he was in.

“What got into you?” Adam asked quietly, casually glancing at Joel to make sure he was preoccupied with memorising his own target.

“Nothing,” Ryan grunted, his eyes not once leaving his file.

“You sure? I know people say that you haven’t got a soul, but honestly I don’t believe that. Do you know them?” The sympathy in Adam’s voice made Ryan cringe.

“No,” the other replied coldly, snapping his file shut and bringing the conversation to a quick end.

The next night Ray was already waiting for him on the roof, trying his best to casual but obviously twitching with nervous energy. He didn’t know how long the other had come to roof over the last few months and how he waited for Ryan to show if he did.

“You better have a good excuse for blowing me off,” Ray joked as he turned around, his grin instantly dying when he saw Ryan wearing his mask. The day after their first meeting as realised soulmates neither of them have bothered with masks and face paint. What was the point of hiding your identity from the one that knows the most important thing about you? “No… No, you’re not doing this Ry. You can’t be,” he denied, his voice starting to choke on his words. “You wouldn’t…  You wouldn’t just let me have you, let me imagine what it was like to have what everyone else has to cut me out of your life!” Ray’s eyes began to well up as his voice started to crack more intensely, while his hands clenched and unclenched by his sides. “It’s not fair! It’s not fucking _fair!”_

Now more than ever Ryan was grateful for the mask, it hid his pain that mirrored Ray’s. His chest felt like it was twisting violently, painfully stabbing wherever it could. He didn’t allow himself to speak. He couldn’t trust his voice right now. Instead he merely shrugged, standing stoic in place.

The shrug made Ray laugh, a wet broken laugh that caused the other to flinch. “That’s all you have to say about this? A fucking shrug? What, you don’t owe me an explanation? That’s how little I meant to you!” Slowly the other closed the gap between them, desperate to try and look behind the mask knowing it was to no avail.

“Answer me one question then Haywood. Did you even love me at all? Did this mean anything to you or was this all some rouse you and your band of fuckers put together to trick me?” the younger practically snarled.

Ryan swallowed thickly, forcing his voice out to say “it meant nothing. It always meant nothing.”

The sniper’s head hung low at the words, eyes screwed shut tightly as his breathing became harder to control. “Fuck you,” came the broken whispered.

“Goodbye, Ray,” Ryan said softly as he exited the roof, trying his best to ignore the chocked sob that followed him.

The second Ryan had climbed down from the roof he fell onto his knees. His breathing became rapid and painful while tears pricked at his eyes. He pulled his knees up to his chest and allowed himself a few minutes of grief over forcibly cutting ties with his soulmate. Sobs racked over his body until they turned into violent gasps for air. The writing on his arm faded into the dull grey of lost love. With slow trembling things he traced the lettering, willing it to bloom back to black but he knew it was never going to happen. He had hurt Ray in the worst way that was ever possible and there was no coming back from that, especially with what he was about to do.

Over the next few weeks the ache in his chest never seemed to ease, only becoming more and more unbearable with each passing day.  The only relief he received was fleeting, the pressure easing whenever he saw someone with rich brown eyes, or unkempt tousled hair before he was swiftly reminded that none of them were Ray.

It was obvious his team had caught on to his rapidly changing mood, the normally emotionless man became much shorter in his words and the easy smirk never once graced his lips. Joel’s shit eating grin Ryan could deal with it, but Adam’s pity was rapidly wearing thin and the delicate approach from Burnie always left him wanting to snap his boss’ neck.

Finally it was time for their mission and Ryan’s heart filled with dread.  Burnie felt like it was time to mark the Dead Souls as the only gang who should run downtown Los Santos, this mission was to be their warning cards to any rival gangs who thought they could take them. The only way to do it was to destroy their major threat for good.

Their rival’s headquarters was in what looked like any typical down on its luck bar, but that kept the police away from snooping around. The gang worked by taking on clients hoping to be picked up by a larger and more sustained gang, but they were young and yet to prove themselves to be more than lucky and reckless.

The place was dead when the Dark Souls arrived, knowing the gang was currently in between jobs with no new clients wanting to take them on after the ill-timed explosion at the gas station. Joel and Adam strolled up to the bar while Ryan stayed back waiting for the others to appear. Behind the bar stood Mogar idly scrolling on his phone, the eagerness in his eyes plain to see when he saw who had approached them.

“Vav! Brownman! Get out here, the Dark Souls need our help,” he called over his shoulder, his voice clearly trying to remain professional but the excitement was clear to recognise. “So what can we do?”

Joel merely laughed and shook his head, causing Mogar to look confused and glance towards Ryan visible paling when he noticed the gun hanging lazily in his hand.  “You see there isn’t really anything you can do, we merely don’t appreciate you three trying to take over downtown Los Santos.”

The other two had arrived with Brownman purposely not glancing over to where Ryan was standing. Vav squeaked at the implications his eyes wide with fear, “come on now we could easily just move right? No problems with that, you’ll have Los Santos all to yourself.”

Joel laughed once more, this laugh bitterer than the last as he turned to face Ryan in the corner. “What do you say Skull?”

At this three pairs of eyes locked into him, with Brownman’s eyes being the focus point for him. The stare from them was hard, anger clear to see but also a mixture of hurt and now slight interest in what he would say. Ryan stumbled over his words before settling on, “I don’t see why they couldn’t just move on, teach them a lesson and then herd them out of town.”

Adam stared at him confused as Joel stormed over to him and addressed him in a harsh whisper, “have you completely gone soft? The mission was to make an example out of them, none of them come out here alive!”

The pair stared at each other before Joel came to a realisation and grabbed Ryan’s wrist and forced his sleeve upwards. The room become dead silent while everyone looked on most of them not believing the situation.

“You of all people have a soulmate?” came Joel’s disbelieving reply, “oh and look at this it’s grey. Did little Ray break up with you.” The mocking tone angered Ryan and he ribbed his wrist away from the older man, fixing him with a glare that under normal circumstances would cause the man to pale.  “You know the rules, kill or be killed.” He turned and addressed Adam, “grab whoever is Ray and bring him to the centre.”

After struggling his way through the lads, forcibly checking each of their marks he roughly grabbed Ray and pushed him to the centre of the floor on his knees. “Oh let’s do this without masks shall we?” Joel ordered, the delight in his voice all too obvious. The white mask Ray wore fell to floor while Ryan slowly removed his mask leaving him with only his face paint on.

Ray’s eyes looked at him with sadness but also acceptance. This was how it was in most gangs but none of them ever thought they would find themselves in this position. Slowly Ryan brought his gun up so it was level between Ray’s eyes, the cold metal of Joel’s gun rested against the side of Ryan’s temple.

“I understand now,” Ray said quietly, a soft smile gracing his lips as tears silently made his way down his cheeks. “You pushed me away so I would hate you, so if this happened I would be glad that you were dead. Expect that you forgot the fact that you’re a complete idiot. I would never be happy to see you dead Ry, I… Fuck, I don’t even want to think about it, even now I can’t bear to think about it.”

“Ray,” he said just as quietly, his voice breaking on the name. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I… I should have said something before, I should have warned you…”

“Probably yeah,” the younger man agreed with a wet laugh. “It doesn’t matter now though I suppose.”  The two stared at each other for a few seconds, both pretending that there wasn’t a gun aimed at both of them as they tried to selfishly to remember the face they love. “I love you, Ryan.”

“I love you, Ray.”

At that they both glanced down at the wrist seeing the grey lettering bursting back into the vivid black, causing a wet laugh from Ryan as tears fell from his eyes making his face paint run. The soulmates were finally reunited once more.

A gun shot suddenly rang out, causing the bystanders to violently flinch and scream while the mark faded away to a scar.

 _So we'll go back to the way that we were_  
_Before we were us,_  
 _Before I was me,_  
 _Before we were happier than I've ever been,_  
 _Than you'll ever see,_  
 _'Cause that's the way it has to be_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, Uni work seemed to pile on and I didn't get much time to write. Thank you for everyone who took the time to read this, it really means a lot to me. The song used was 'The Way We Were' by Carrie Flecther


End file.
